Talking It Through
by graphitewarrior
Summary: Little Mac has some bad nightmares to deal with. He keeps it all inside because he's used to having Doc around. However, aiding someone's 3 a. m. hunger pangs may teach him an unexpected lesson about making the best of what he has. One-shot, no pairing.


He was back in the Majors again or perhaps the Minor Circuit. He couldn't be sure, as he had no clue what he was wearing. He walked into the ring, unzipping his pink jumpsuit; when he couldn't see Doc anywhere, his fingers began to tremble. He quickly shoved his hands inside his familiar green gloves, preparing to fight his opponent, who would most likely be taller and bigger than he was and difficult to knock out.

He couldn't land any punches. He kept trying to see where his enemy was, but he was obscured from his vision. The lights began to darken; the roar of the crowd drowned out his own thoughts. His opponent struck his face, searing his skin. An eerie white noise rang in his ears. All was blurry and dim. Everything was about to go black.

Little Mac jolted awake. He quickly looked around to make sure he wasn't in the hospital or dead. It seemed like everything was fine. Of course he was okay; he was at the fourth Smash tournament, in which he had been participating for a few weeks. The WVBA was worlds away. There was no need to worry about it now. However, he still felt uneasy and wanted comfort before he went back to sleep.

Mac opened his mouth to call for Doc but shut it just as quickly when he remembered that Doc wasn't in the room with him. Mac had grown used to sharing a hotel room with his trainer, Doc Louis, during Mac's time in the WVBA and had been able to tell him about the nightmares he was having and what he was worried about. With Doc not around, Mac tended to keep his feelings pent up and would try to get them out physically by training in the basement rather than confiding in his roommate.

His roommate—oh, crap. Mac's roommate, Shulk, had the power to see the future and was a self-proclaimed light sleeper; Mac guessed those two qualities were linked. Mac had probably woken him up. Sure enough, Shulk turned over in the top bunk after a minute and mumbled, "What's going on? Is everything all right?" Mac laid back down tentatively. His natural reflex would be to start talking about what he had seen, but he hated to have to saddle his roommate with the burden of counselling him. He didn't say anything.

Shulk tried again: "Mac, are you awake?" Mac closed his eyes in case Shulk looked under the bed. It was probably three in the morning, and he didn't want Shulk to have no sleep. He knew he himself might not get any sleep after that nightmare, but he just didn't want to force that problem on his roommate as well.

Shulk said nothing. Mac was thankful, yet, at the same time, he was not. _If I could just have Doc here to talk it out with, it wouldn't be a problem,_ Mac thought. He turned over on his side as quietly as he could and tried to get comfortable. Although his eyes felt heavy, bleary, his legs were restless. With such aches in his muscles from the previous day's training, he would never get to sleep. He sighed under his breath, turning over again, this time with less forethought to the noise he was making. Mac was still for a minute before he finally decided that he wasn't going to be able to sleep. _Better not waste this time, then_, he thought, sliding out from under the covers and sneaking toward where his gloves lay. Suddenly, Shulk rolled over, causing Mac to flinch_. I'd better get out before he wakes up again,_ thought Mac, sliding his gloves on and tiptoeing towards the door. Before he snuck out, Mac heard Shulk sit up.

As he rushed downstairs, Mac bumped into someone. He swallowed and hoped for the best. If this person were Mario, he might be punished for being out past curfew without permission. But, thankfully, they were someone else. Pit rubbed his eyes and blinked, staring at Little Mac standing before him. The angel's wings protruded from the shirt he wore as pajamas; the pants matched and looked a bit long, as if he could have tripped on them and fallen into Mac's path. His characteristic laurel wreath was absent from his brown head of hair, and his boyish face was darkened by lack of sleep, dark circles faint underneath his eyes, his nose a bit runny, his eyes themselves barely open. "What're you doin' up this late?" he asked, his voice slurred, the usual eager tone replaced by pure exhaustion.

Mac was dumbfounded that someone else was breaking curfew at the exact same time as he was. He had no response prepared, so he just said, "I don't know," even though he could have replied with the true and actual reason why he was up so late.

"I was hungry," said Pit. Mac noticed that his feet, which were bare, felt sticky. He looked down and noticed that syrup was on the floor, accompanied by a broken plate and what looked like some freezer waffles. "But now I can't eat."

"I'm sorry," Mac automatically said, distracted by the viscous liquid from which he could not free his feet.

"Usually, I'd just eat the food anyway, but I'm too tired to do it," Pit said.

Mac frowned and looked at the mess. Usually, Mac would just keep going. Normally, he would be too anxious to help someone out, but he decided against that, just like Pit decided not to eat the food off of the floor. "You can make some new ones, or maybe, if we can find the pancake batter, you can make those."

Pit's ragged face brightened. "Really? Oh man, that'd be great!"

"You just have to clean this up. And we're going to have to be really careful about the smell. Otherwise, someone will know you've been breaking curfew." Pit nodded and rushed to the kitchen, returning with wet paper towels and dishcloths, trying his hardest in his haggard state to wipe the syrup off of the floor. He could get rid of the stains, he soon discovered, but could not cover up the odor. He quietly lamented his inability to get rid of the delicious smell of maple as he scrubbed the floor alongside Mac, who was seated on the floor trying to clean his feet off.

When the duo were done cleaning, they both returned to the second floor kitchen. Mac was unable to find the pancake batter but found another box of waffles in the freezer. Pit put four waffles into the toaster and watched them intently; Mac acted as a sentry, wary of anyone patrolling for curfew-breakers. Pit drenched the finished product in syrup; he grinned widely at Mac, looking less worn out now that he had food to eat. "Thanks," he said, digging into the waffles.

"Good night, then," Mac said.

"Wait, where are you going?" Pit asked through a mouthful of waffles.

"Oh, just... Back to bed," Mac lied.

"Where were you going before?"

"You got me. I was going to train."

"This late?"

"You're eating this late."

"How can you stay awake to train?"

"Easy. I have more energy when I haven't slept."

Pit squinted for a moment and then shook his head. "Nah, that's not it. You're always training during the day. There would be no reason for you to train now."

Mac didn't change his expression. "So why do you think I'm going to train?"

"...It's what you do when you can't sleep?"

"Bingo."

Pit chewed intently, as if the chewing set the gears of his mind in motion. "Why not talk to your roommate about it? That's the easiest thing to do."

Mac flinched. _How'd he know?_ Sure, Mac had spent a lot of time avoiding his mysterious roommate at first, but they had grown accustomed to each other. Yet Mac was still missing Doc, still reliant on Doc for sharing his deepest thoughts and emotions. Then again, Shulk, who was himself an outcast and seemed shy or introverted, had told Mac to ask for help whenever he needed it, and seemed to empathize with whatever Mac chose to tell him. "I guess maybe I should," he said. "Without my trainer, Doc, it's hard to share anything at will, but maybe it's better to talk it out."

"I totally get you," Pit said, scraping the plate clean. "At first, I came here without Lady Palutena, and it was kinda weird, 'cause I'm used to having her around all the time. But then I met Ness, and this time Mega Man, and us three have become really great friends."

Mac nodded. It was decided. He wouldn't go train; he needed his sleep. But first, he had to try to be able to relate his nightmare to his roommate. He said goodnight to Pit, who thanked him again, and each of them snuck back to their rooms. Mac had not been spotted by the Curfew Police, and he wondered if the same was true for Pit. Mac removed his gloves from around his neck, where he had hung them when scrubbing the syrup off of his feet, and placed them next to the foot of the bed. He slid back under the covers and called quietly, "Shulk?"

Shulk stirred and mumbled in response, "You back?"

"Yeah."

"What's wrong? What'd you wake me up for?"

"Can't sleep. Had a nightmare. That was why I got up. And I didn't want to bother you."

"You could have just talked it out with me. I don't mind if you wake me up. Go ahead and tell me about it."

"I was just scared to."

"Scared? Why's that?"

"I'm just used to having Doc here to talk out my nightmares with."

It was quiet for a moment, then Shulk said, "I understand. With my friends, especially Reyn and Dunban, not here, sometimes I feel like I don't have my support system with me."

"That's exactly what it's like," Mac responded eagerly. "When we were on the road during the WVBA, I would pour my heart out to Doc whenever I had to. He's like a father to me."

They paused again before Mac decided to commence with retelling his nightmare. When he had finished, he once again felt the shiver of an unknown fate at the hands of an invisible opponent, yet he was also relieved by having shared the dream with someone else.

"I bet a lot us here have dreams like those," Shulk said after a few minutes. "Having been on the journeys that we were and all. When I first got the Monado, I immediately had visions of the future. Since then, I've had visions of countless deaths, and I haven't always been able to stop them. The 'bad' outcomes for those visions… That's the stuff of nightmares."

"Wow," Mac said. "Makes my problems seem like nothing compared to yours."

"No one's problems are nothing. We… just have to figure out how to deal with what happens to us. And sometimes, talking it out is the best option. Believe me, it took me a while to figure that out."

"I think that's something I still need to learn." Mac thought about Pit. Maybe he was in his bed, sitting across from Ness, talking through a nightmare with him, too. He mentally thanked Pit for giving him the courage to talk to his roommate.

"So, do you agree we should talk to each other when we have nightmares?"

"Oh, definitely."


End file.
